Immemorial
by Psychoblue
Summary: In the wake of Bastion's defeat, friends and foes gather as one to observe the aftermath of the tragedies that have befallen Utopia. Takes place after Second Coming, guest-starring Shriek.


Partly cloudy, 76 degrees Fahrenheit, with winds of 15 mph: it was a weather condition that most people would use to have a picnic, play outside, and enjoy what was almost universally considered as a beautiful day. It certainly wasn't the kind of weather that would expect on an event as gloomy as a mass funeral, where the departed were remembered with tears and heartache galore. Popular media would often spin funerals being set in the backdrop of a cloudy day, often accompanied by rain and thunder to accentuate the gloom that radiated from such a tragic event.

Then again, popular media would also spin mutants as a menace to humankind: a blight on the Earth that needed to be eradicated if life would ever get to know true peace. The media would use their persuasive power over the masses to propagate fear and hatred of those that were different, of those that they didn't understand. That was something that was constant throughout all of mankind's history: the target could be Jews, gays, blacks, gypsys, witches, even people accused of being demons. A despot would use the fear of the people to rise to power and spread their wrath onto the condemned until either their targets were all dead, or someone rose up to stop the madness.

No one attending this funeral on this inappropriately beautiful day was a stranger to bigotry: as either a mutant, or someone who was a friend of a mutant, no one was ignorant to how cruel humans could be to those who were different. It was especially true given the most recent disaster that had befallen mutantkind: the Second Coming of the mutant-hunting android known as Bastion and his legion of off-shoots known as the Nimrod Sentinels. Taking advantage of the mutant race's exodus to the island of Utopia, as well as their greatly diminished numbers due to the events of the catastrophe known as "M-Day," Bastion led his forces to one massive strike on Utopia and all who lived there. Though other superpowered teams tried to intervene, it was ultimately a battle between two factions: the Sentinels, and the X-men.

The X-men were no strangers to death: as trained warriors and defenders of both mutants and humans, the battlefield was almost like a second home. In that respect, maybe they were a little bit less than human like the bigots would claim: rather, they were mere things that were designed only to fight and destroy. However, that didn't make the battle any less fearsome, or less tragic. Good men and women put everything they had on the line so that their Utopia could live to see another day in spite of the madness that Bastion tried to inflict upon them. Through sheer force of will, the X-men defied the overwhelming odds set against them and emerged victorious, burying Bastion's mad ambitions to dust and destroying the Sentinel fleet to make Utopia a safe haven once again…

…but it did not come without great cost.

Looking around to see the sad faces surrounding him, Scott Summers sniffed the air before straightening his ruby visor. As the leader of the X-men, Scott was one of the founding members of the team and also one of the longest-serving: with the power to fire off a crimson blast of concussive energy from his eyes, Scott was codenamed "Cyclops" and had become synonymous with the name "X-men." He had seen many members come and go from the team, either growing tired of the violent lifestyle, getting offers from the many other superhero teams that were in contact with them, becoming the evil that they had sworn to fight…or dying in the field of battle. He had gone to many funerals over the years, and seen many friends die, including the love of his life Jean Grey. Having Emma Frost around had eased some of the heartache he felt knowing that Jean was out of his life, but it still hurt whenever he had to say goodbye to one of his teammates.

What made this particular funeral hurt, however, was that those who were being mourned had died because of his negligence.

_Bastion targeted our teleporters so that he could isolate us all into one spot, making us easy pickings for his Nimrods, _Scott reminded himself as he steeled his nerves and walked into the gathering of people, trying his best to shut out the murmurs that came from them. _Nightcrawler was the first to fall, killed by Bastion as he was making sure that Hope was safe. I had thought that I had figured out his plan, so I assigned Ariel to Wolverine and X-23 to make sure that she wouldn't fall…but I was wrong, and she died as well. Now we have teammates dead, other missing, and many more injured, possibly permanently._

"_It wasn't your fault, Scott."_

Hearing a familiar voice in his head, Scott turned to his right to see Emma talking to a strongly-built man in Asgardian armor with long flowing locks, undisputedly the God of Thunder Thor, come to pay his respects to his fallen comrades in the X-men. At Scott's urging, Emma had refrained from wearing her usual risqué attire and instead put on a modest black dress with a veil over her face: Emma's outfits had always been a point of controversy within the X-men, but at least she was nice enough to listen to her lover's request and not draw attention to herself. In fact, aside from Thor and those from the kingdom of Wakanda, almost everyone in attendance had dressed in their Sunday best for the funeral. Scott hoped that this would at least be indicative that this would be a better sendoff to his fallen friend Nightcrawler's death than the impromptu gathering the X-men had days before.

"_As team leader, it is my fault because they were my responsibility,"_ Scott responded with Emma's telepathy picking up his thoughts even though they were at least twenty feet away from each other. _"I've known Kurt for years: he was one of the very best in the world at what he did. We've fought together on countless battlefields and I've lost count of how many times his sense of humor has kept the team from losing their minds. It's going to be incredibly difficult to roam the hallways of the institute with his voice gone, and there's no one to blame but myself."_

"_Kurt knew the risks, just like all of us here," _Emma said as she finally turned away from Thor to look at Scott with the cool expression that had become her trademark. _"He sacrificed his life so that Hope could live, and any one of us would have done the same if we were in his position. He died a hero's death, and that's all we could have asked of him in this madness that Bastion brought upon us."_

"_I could have anticipated Bastion's strategy_, _or sent in more members on his team to give him more time to escape with Hope so that he wouldn't have had to die," _Scott said as he sniffed once again and straightened his red tie, still trying to keep from looking shaken up from the loss of someone as gentle and spirited as Nightcrawler. _"Death is never the only outcome: there is always a way out. And if I wasn't so careless, I could have figured out a way so that there would have been less casualities, if any." _

Finally reaching his destination of Nightcrawler's ebony coffin, Scott stood next to the red-headed woman in black wearing a dark fedora that hid her sapphire skin. "Hello, Mystique," Scott said out loud once he had filtered out the deep sadness in his voice. "I am…glad that you were able to come."

Mystique and the X-men had a very long and troubled history: as a former leader of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants and a remorseless sociopath, she had often been at odds with Scott and his comrades. There had been times when their goals would coincide, and the revelation of her being Nightcrawler's mother years before would often act as the only safeguard that kept her from ripping the X-men apart: a feat that she would relish if given the chance. On this tragic day, however, it didn't matter where allegiance lied: she was there to mourn just like everyone else.

Mystique said nothing in response to Scott's greetings, perhaps thinking that he didn't mean it given how unliked she was amongst the other X-men and only there because of Xavier's wishes, but Scott continued speaking. "I don't know how much this means to you, but your son was a hero without equal: the students at the school looked up to him like he was a father, and the X-men looked to him like he was our brother…and maybe he was just that. We might not have been bound by blood, but we would share our thoughts with each other like a family would, and there was never any question that we would put our lives on the line for each other. He was a good friend…maybe even more than I'm willing to admit."

Still silence.

"…I know you and Kurt weren't on good terms: you live life on the wrong side of the law, and Kurt lived his on what believed was the right side. I'm not going to lie to you and say that we enjoy having you here in Utopia: you've caused us far too much heartache to be welcomed here with open arms. However…" Scott swallowed as he felt a lump forming his throat, not entirely accepting what he was about to say, "…I think Kurt would have wanted us to forgive, because that was the kind of man he was. He believed that redemption was always possible as long as life existed…and that's why I think he would have been happy to see you here alongside us like you've been the past few days as we rebuild Utopia…"

After another few seconds of silence, Mystique lifted her head and spoke with a voice as cold as the Arctic North and just as forgiving. "Let me make this perfectly clear, Summers," she said without breaking her gaze from her dead son's coffin. "I am not here by freedom of choice: you are keeping me here to keep an eye on me so that I do not do anything to ruin your precious little mutant day care center. In return, you are making sure that none of Osborn's men kill me for leaving his Dark X-men: he may be in jail, but you and I both know that won't stop him from killing."

"Osborn has nothing to do with what you're doing here," Scott replied with equal chill in his voice, folding his arms so that he looked stoic and steadfast in the wake of one of his greatest enemies.

"Is that blonde vamp telling you my thoughts?"

"Emma has nothing to do with this either," the field leader of the X-men remained calm even as he sensed anger in the shapeshifter's voice, an anger that was feared throughout the world. "You're here because you lost someone important to you, just like the rest of us here. Take a look around and you'll see both friends and enemies of the X-men here to say goodbye to either a great friend or a worthy opponent. Today, there are no grudges: only remembrance…and I expect you to honor that."

"Listen carefully, Summers, because I am only going to say this once," the blue-skinned terrorist finally turned away from the coffin to make eye contact with Scott, her yellow eyes burning fiercely beneath her veil even as tears flowed down her cheeks. "I want this funeral to be uneventful: I might not have known Kurt like you did, but I damn well expect him to have a proper farewell now that this Sentinel madness is over with. If by some chance something happens that turns my son's funeral into another one of your circuses with explosions and screaming…I will do everything in my power to raze Utopia to the ground and make what Bastion did seem like a minor scuffle. Do we understand each other?"

Mystique was met with silence, causing her to raise her voice in rage and sadness. "Do we understand each other, Summers!"

"…if you try anything, Mystique, the X-men will stop you just like we always do," Scott answered with his voice low in contrast to Mystique's shouting. She was someone who only understood confrontation, which likely contributed to her career as a mutant terrorist. At her son's funeral, the least Scott could do was not meet her challenge and make the funeral even more painful for her than it already was. "However, I can promise you that nothing out of the ordinary will happen here: Kurt and Ariel at least deserve that much."

"CYKE, BUDDY!"

With the tense moment disrupted, Mystique and Scott turned their heads to see someone neither of them would have liked to see on such a sensitive event as this memorial service. If his loud voice and obnoxious mannerisms didn't give his identity away, the infamous maroon-and-black mask clashing with his cheap tuxedo certainly did. Wade Wilson, AKA Deadpool, was another former enemy of the X-men that had come to terms with an uneasy alliance with them, not too different from Mystique. He had once been a member of the Weapon X project that caused Wolverine so much grief, acquiring an accelerated regenerative healing factor in return for becoming permanently scarred by cancer and losing his sanity. What separated Mystique from Deadpool was that the former was simply a sociopath: Deadpool was undisputedly insane and would change sides at the drop of the hat for reasons that even he didn't know.

So to see Deadpool speak with such cordial joy at so solemn an event drove Mystique to a breaking point. Using her shape-shifting powers to transform her hand into a sharp spike, the blue-skinned woman bared her teeth and prepared to run the mercenary through. "Wow, you seem a little blue today, Raven," Deadpool pointed out as Mystique reared back for what she hoped to be a way to shut him up permanently. "Well, I guess you're always blue, but hey, it's a funeral: being blue actually fits in here!"

Placing a hand on Mystique's shoulder, Scott ignored the death glare the woman gave him and instead focused his attention on Deadpool. In a strange way, Deadpool was a shining example of the belief that redemption was always possible: the X-man Cable, who at one point was Deadpool's nemesis, was able to come to terms with Wade and form a partnership with him. Though it had its hardships, the two formed a unique bond and Deadpool slowly became a force of good: Scott even made him a provisionary X-man at one point, taking note of his friendship with Cable. Despite that, Deadpool's current jovial behavior was definitely not appropriate. "Keep your voice down, Wilson: you're going to disturb the guests."

"Awww, you're breaking my heart, Cyke," Deadpool answered dramatically, clutching his chest as if he was having cardiac arrest. "I came here to pay respects to that little elf who would always teleport me in weird places and leave me there until the feds showed up: there was one time when he bamfed me into a hardware store and gave me a wedgie on a loose board over a bed of nails. I have to tell you, next time I'm gonna leave the acupuncture to the professionals because I had boo-boos everywhere!"

"Make him go away…," Mystique growled with murderous intent before raising her voice once again, "…NOW!"

"Come on, Wilson," Scott placed his hand on Deadpool's shoulder and gave him a stern push back, forcing him away from Mystique. Once the two of them were safely away from the mourning terrorist, the X-men's leader's forehead furrowed as his visor glowed bright red. "OK, Wilson: you know that you have to keep a low profile around here. A lot of us don't like you here because you disturb a lot of the other guests."

"I hope it's not because of my overbearing personality," Deadpool said innocently, clasping his hands together and leaning in closer to Scott as if to bat his eyelashes beneath his cowl. "I know all of the ladies can't resist my sexy lines and the guys are all jealous because-"

"Wilson, I am **really **not in the mood for this," the brown-haired mutant pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation before letting out a sigh. The reason the X-men didn't like Deadpool was exactly because of his personality: he would say one thing and do another, and had the ability to make a situation worse regardless of what side he was on: he didn't even need a mutant power to do it. "…I was talking to Mystique because she lost her son: I really did not need for you to come over there and interrupt me…now, is there something you wanted to tell me now that I've saved you from getting impaled?"

"Heh…nah, I just wanted to say hi," Deadpool answered said with a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, even as Scott glared at him through his visor. "We superheroes keep getting killed off like flies lately that it's good to talk to friends about it: I'd talk to Cable some more, but hey, he's still in the sick bed with that weird techno-flu he got. Thank God I never got something like that: what would all my fans think when they saw me look like I just tried out for the movie 'Tro-"

"You're at a funeral, Wilson," Scott said harshly, his patience finally wearing thin. "I suggest you act like it or I'm going to have Wolverine escort you off the premises."

"PFFT! Oh, come on! It's not like all you X-men don't come back from the dead anyway. It just all depends on who's writing the stories," Deadpool scoffed at the X-man's serious demeanor, either unaware how close he was to getting an optic blast in his face or simply not caring. "I mean, you guys die all the time, and yet every now and then one of you comes back. Colossus has died once, that Kitty girl that I Dragon Punched died and came back a couple of months ago, Magneto has died who knows how many times, Wolvie has died just as much, you died once, Jean has died-"

"WILSON!"

Nearing his wit's end, Scott raised his voice loud enough for the other patrons to hear, drawing attention to him and Deadpool. Inhaling and exhaling deeply to try and regain his composure, he did his best to lower his voice back down to reasonable levels before continuing. "This is not an appropriate behavior for a funeral: now, are you going to behave yourself or do we have to stick you in the Danger Room so you can keep yourself occupied until the memorial service is over?"

"…yeah, yeah, I'll be good," Deadpool said despondently as his shoulders slumped down in sadness. Further proof of the mercenary's insanity were his mood swings: there were times where he wouldn't stop making jokes and come off as goofy more than anything else, and other times where he seemed less like a murderous comedy reel and more like the human that he was before Weapon X warped his brain. "I guess I can go talk to Domino's sister like I said I would, show her around the place, introduce her to-"

"Wait…'Domino's sister?'" Just before Deadpool turned away, Scott placed a hand on his shoulder and tightened his grip to get his attention. "Domino doesn't have a sister, Deadpool. What are you talking about?"

"Uhhhh…"

For once, Deadpool was at a loss for words as reality started to seep through his sick brain. Rather than try to explain how he led a complete stranger into Utopia that may or may not have been claiming to be someone that she clearly wasn't, the mercenary turned around and scanned the several dozen people around them to see if he could find who he was talking about. After a few seconds of searching, the mercenary lifted his hand and pointed his finger dramatically at a slender young woman in an ebony dress with long, straight black hair and white skin, along with a diamond-shaped black mark across her left eye, which was milky white in contrast to her right eye still had its iris and pupil.

If someone took a quick glance at her, it might have been possible for them to assume a connection between the longtime X-Force member Domino. For someone who was familiar with the woman's history, however, it was undeniable who the woman really was. _"Emma," _Scott called out to his lover and her telepathic abilities as he stepped away from Deadpool and made his way towards the woman._ "I need you to place mental blocks on everyone except me and the woman I'm walking towards right now. I'm about to escort a possible hostile off of the premises and I don't want to disturb anyone else."_

"_...understood, but I won't be able to shut everyone out since there are a few other telepaths here," _Emma responded as she used her powers to see through Scott's eyes the woman that he was targeting. _"Who is that?"_

"_Her name is Sandra Deel, codenamed Shriek. She was one of the monsters responsible for turning New York inside-out during the 'Maximum Carnage' crisis a few years back. She was supposed to have been in Ravencroft since then, but obviously that file will have to get updated. Given that she's never had any encounters with the X-men, we can assume that she's not here to observe the memorial service." _Quickening his pace as he noticed that the woman was walking towards an unmasked and unsuspecting Avalanche with a glowing hand, Scott placed his hand on his visor and gave himself completely to his heroic alter-ego known as Cyclops. _"I'm engaging now: make sure no one else interferes."_

"Hold it right there, Shriek!"

Turning her head to see who had called out her name, the woman's milky-white eye suddenly flashed yellow when she spotted Cyclops briskly walking towards her, his finger hovering over the side of his visor ready to unleash an optic blast. "Ah hell: I didn't think I'd be spotted so soon," Shriek said despondently before noticing that despite talking, Avalanche nor anyone else had taken note of her aside from Cyclops. "Hey, what's going on? Why is no one paying attention to me!"

"This is a memorial service: it doesn't need to be soiled by trash like you," Cyclops shot back as he stopped walking so that he was about six feet away from the woman: just far enough from her to hit her with an optic blast without the force of the attack disturbing anyone around them. "Why have you come here, Shriek? The X-men have never bothered you before and you usually don't stray very far from New York. What are you scheming?"

"Scheming! KYAH-HAHAHAHA," Shriek tossed her head back in an insane cackle that sent a chill down the X-man's spine: most of what he knew about Shriek was what Spider-man had told him during the times when they could talk to each other. She had fancied herself as the "husband" of the superpowered serial killer Carnage, one of the wall-crawler's greatest adversaries. He didn't think it was possible at the time, but Shriek was somehow just as vile and criminally insane as her symbiote-sporting spouse, and they almost succeeded in turning New York City into a No Man's Land. Deadpool might have been crazy, and Mystique might have been evil, but Shriek was both. "Didn't my husband and I teach you anything! There is no scheme in life: only random chance and chaos! I just so happened to be in San Francisco, where that idiot with the swords just so happened to invite me to be his date at a funeral on an island that just so happened to include a wall-crawler. If I cause enough of a mess here, I'm sure the wall-crawler that I'm REALLY itching to have a reunion with will just so happen to come here to see what's up!"

"Well, thank God that I just so happened to stumble across you before you did harm," Cyclops retorted as Shriek's hands began to glow the same yellow aura that her right eye shared. "I'm only going to tell you this once, Shriek: go away and don't come back, or I'll make you go away and guarantee that you'll never want to come back."

"What a hypocrite: I'm a mutant just like you, and you said your big speech that all mutants were welcome here," Shriek said with a crazed grin as the two of them prepared to fight while the rest of the people gathered for the service moved away from them and went towards the caskets up front, as per the psychic suggestion of Emma Frost and possibly a few other telepaths alerted of what was happening. "How about this, then: if you beat me, I'll leave you party-poopers to cry about what's already gone. If I beat you…heh, well, I think I'll REALLY like what'll happen if I beat you!"

FSHZACK!

With a quick burst of red energy, Cyclops unleashed a quick optic blast to Shriek's chest that caused her to stumble backwards as if she had just been hit with a battering ram. Being that Shriek had already declared that she had intended to ruin the memorial service, he had no qualms against striking first. The threats that Mystique gave him earlier did not bother him too much: while he didn't doubt the threats were real, he wasn't attacking Shriek out of fear of the shape-shifter's wrath. He was attacking Shriek because she dared to attack the X-men, his family, in a moment where they were most vulnerable. Cyclops had had enough of sending other members of his team to deal with situations: it was time to take charge and prove to himself that he was still worthy of leading.

"Nice…but not nice enough!" Shriek blurted out as she pointed her left hand at Cyclops and unleashed a yellow blast of energy that struck Cyclops in the shoulder and caused him to let out a shout of pain. Mutants who could manipulate sound were not too uncommon: another one of Cyclops' departed friends Banshee and his daughter Siryn could use their screams as sonic weapons. However, neither of them had the ability to focus sound into such a concussive weapon of visible energy like Shriek could: it was a wonder that Shriek and the X-men had been able to avoid each other so long when she was so skilled.

As Shriek fired off another blast of power, Cyclops rolled to the left to avoid getting struck. The woman bit her lip in frustration as she fired again, and the X-man repeated the evasive maneuver with the same success. "Hold still, dammit," Shriek shouted as she unleashed a salvo of blasts, causing Cyclops to be a bit more quick on his feet and return fire with own blasts. _She might have trained herself to hone her sound powers into energy weapons, but she doesn't have the mental discipline that I have in the heat of battle, _Cyclops thought as he moved his head to the side to narrowly avoid another stream, though the ear it whizzed by rang in pain. _I should use that to my advantage, and get in close so that she can't blast me from a distance._

Unleashing a quick optic blast, Cyclops clipped Shriek's knee and forced her to end her salvo by disrupting her footing. Seeing his opportunity, Cyclops charged forward with his fists clenched. It was difficult to move around in his dress clothes, as noted from how much trouble he had completely evading Shriek's blasts as he advanced, but he had fought under much worse conditions in his time, and within seconds he was directly in front of the madwoman.

It was then that Cyclops began pounding on Shriek with shots to the body, hoping that at least one of them would knock the wind out of her and end the conflict before it could get worse. Unfortunately for Cyclops, while Shriek might not have been a trained fighter, she was certainly a resilient one. In fact, when Shriek lifted her head to look up at the X-man, she was smiling…right before she rammed her forehead into Cyclops' chest, causing him to back off while she took a moment to catch her breath.

Shriek was the first to recover and took to the offensive just as Cyclops had brushed off the effects of the sudden "Zidane" imitation. He had been expecting a high attack and prepared himself accordingly, but Shriek decided to instead attack low and delivered a sharp knee to the man's lower stomach. "Damn: I was aiming for your dick," Shriek cursed as Cyclops bent over gripping his midsection. "Oh well! I'll get to that later!" Lifting her foot high into the air, the madwoman drove it into Cyclops's spine and forced him onto his face.

"You know, there was a time when I considered joining that Brotherhood you X-Jerks always play with," Shriek said with a twisted smile as she grinded her shoe into the small of Cyclops' back. "When that long-tongued guy Toad or Frog or whatever his name is finally sent me an application, I decided that they could go suck an egg: it was just one order trying to overthrow another. All that matters to me is chaos…because chaos is freedom!" Slowly removing her foot from Cyclops' back, Shriek lifted her leg once again and prepared to stomp on the back of his neck instead. "You know what's going to be freeing you in a moment? De-ACK!"

Rising from the ground like a geyser, Cyclops took advantage of Shriek's momentary lapse and delivered a jumping uppercut to her chin just before she brought her leg down. With plenty of vertical momentum left from his ascent, the X-man repeated the maneuver five more times in mid-air, propelling Shriek higher and higher like a painful stairway to heaven. After the final punch, Cyclops blasted Shriek with an optic blast that sent the madwoman plummeting to the ground while he landed gracefully on his feet. It was rare that he used that maneuver outside of the Danger Room, but he liked the name that his teammates gave it when they first saw him perform: the "Gene Splice."

Quickly closing in on Shriek as she stumbled back to her feet, Cyclops began attacking her with punches and elbows across her torso and face. This was not where either of them belonged: Cyclops should have been several yards away morning the loss of his comrades like a good friend should, and Shriek should have been locked away in prison for her innumerous crimes against mankind. And while they shouldn't have been there, Cyclops intended to make sure that both of them were put back to where they belonged.

"…no…no no NO!"

Upon hearing Shriek's panicked screams, the wall of ice Cyclops placed around his heart cracked slightly, forcing him to back off and allow Shriek to fall down to her knees. There was no longer violent fury in her eyes, but unrestrained fear. "M-mommy…please don't hit me, don't hit me," the madwoman whimpered as she put her hands up to shield herself from Cyclops' assault, even though he had lowered his fists already, "don't hit me don't hit me don't hit me AGAIN!"

Suddenly, the hatred Cyclops felt for the woman diminished greatly, replaced with a sense of pity. Given how much bile was within Shriek, it was easy to forget that it was not a prison that she belonged in, but a lunatic asylum. Before she was escaped, Sandra Deel was being treated at the Ravencroft Institute: a patient that was suffering from a mental illness that needed to be treated. _What am I doing, letting my temper get the best of me, _Cyclops thought as he leaned in closer to hear Shriek's sobs. _I almost forgot that I have the professor here too: maybe he can help her shake some of the voices out of her head…_

"…MORON!"

CHAKOOM!

With her demeanor doing a complete 180, Shriek blasted Cyclops right in his stomach just as he was directly over her. Launching the X-man straight up into the air like a rocket, Shriek found her twisted smile again and used both her hands to fire off a continuous stream of energy and propel Cyclops further into the air. Twenty feet…thirty feet…forty feet…Cyclops continued to ascend into the air with Shriek acting as his propulsion. It wasn't until he reached fifty feet into the air that Shriek suddenly lowered her hands and cut off the propulsion, bringing Cyclops' ascent to a stop and begin his long descent down to the ground. Thanks to being stunned by taking the full brunt of Shriek's sonic blasts, Cyclops was unable to maneuver his body as much as he'd like and he wound up landing flat on his stomach, hearing something crack in his ribcage once he touched down.

"You should have finished me off when you had the chance, handsome," Shriek said as her right eye started flashing yellow while she watched Cyclops writhe on the ground, trying his best to return to his feet regardless to how much he felt like he was on fire. "I thought you were supposed to be a battle-hardened vet: what made you hold back just now? Let me see…"

"DAMN," Cyclops let out a shout of frustration as a familiar but unwelcome sensation. Growing up with Professor Xavier, the most powerful psychic in the world, and falling in love with two women who were close behind him had taught him when someone was lurking in his head. It was an experience that could either be unique and interesting, or unpleasant and agonizing. For a psychopath like Shriek to lurk into his brain, a power that he obviously hadn't anticipated, it was almost too much for him to bear, and he cursed himself for his short-sightedness.

By the time Cyclops finally gained the wherewithal to shut out Shriek from his mind, it was too late: she had already found what she wanted to know. "Let me tell you a bit about myself, red-eye," Shriek chirped as her entire body started to radiate with the same yellow aura that her eye had. "My mutant power isn't just limited to blasting people with concentrated sonics, even though I have to admit that it's pretty fun. I can also look into people's minds and sense their inner darkness: fear, hate, anger, stuff like that. Just now, I saw what's been bothering you: you hate yourself for letting your friends die, but you want to be all cool about it and not let it show." With her aura intensifying, Shriek's smile turned into a crazed grin as Cyclops let out a cry of agony as he felt all of his guilt and anguish well up inside of him to be used against him. "I say don't be like that: you can act as pissed off as you want as long as I'm here! And once you're done fighting it, you can help me go back to your friends where I can use this power to start a riot: now that would be my kind of funeral!"

"_Scott, your thoughts just went into overdrive," _Emma's voice echoed throughout Scott's mind, though it was easy for to become lost in the sudden storm of bad memories that were being played through his mind like a flip book. Scott had no shortage of bad memories: the first time he lost Jean, the revelation that Madelyne Pryor was a clone, the time that he believed that his own son had killed Xavier, and those were only the ones that stood out the most. _"I'm going to try and counteract what that woman is doing to you, but I need you to help me!"_

"It's hopeless," Scott hissed beneath grit teeth.

"_Scott, that is no way for an X-man to be-"_

"IT'S HOPELESS," he repeated, this time loud enough for Shriek to hear and causing her to unleash another mad cackle. "Being an X-man used to be about self-control: disciplining yourself so that your powers could be a gift and not a curse. But now…" Unable to hold in the negative emotions any longer, tears flowed down Cyclops's cheeks like waterfalls as he pounded his fist into the dirt, "…now it's just and endless cycle of fighting and madness! I doesn't matter whether it's the Brotherhood, the Sentinels, the Shi'ar, Sinister, Apocalypse, the monsters from Breakworld, or the countless other madmen we've faced! Some of my best friends and comrades are dead, and the worst part is that in this mad world, it's less than likely that they'll even stay dead!"

"_Scott…dear," _Emma's voice paused for a moment, perhaps realizing just how much hurt Cyclops had been holding in during the funeral so that he could act like the leader he was. _"There was a time when I asked Xavier if, with Cerebra at his disposal, he would be able to force world peace onto everyone and allow mutants and humans to coexist. He responded that if he had enough telepaths helping him that it would be possible, but it was an option that he dreaded, because for all of the fighting we do, we make a difference in people's lives with our example. Yes, the bigotry is still there, and it's possible it always will, but when that gets to me I remember something that you told me."_

"W-what's that?"

"_The greatest thing that we, as X-men, can do, is make a difference. Do you know how many times you've made a difference, Scott? Enough for a thousand lifetimes." _There was a strange soothing feeling in Emma's voice, a considerable contrast from her usual icy demeanor. It was made especially soothing due to Emma's powers that were gradually breaking Shriek's grip on Cyclops' mind, allowing him to once again rise onto his feet. _"I've just finished placing a mental block that should prevent Shriek from toying with you like that again. Now finish her quickly: everyone here is starting to wonder where you are."_

"Mental blocks…that's cheating, red-eye," Shriek protested as she stomped her feet while Cyclops' finger once again hovered over his visor. "And…and I thought this was supposed to be just between you and me! No fair inviting backup when my husband is still locked up!"

'_Backup?'_

Upon repeating Shriek's line in his head, Cyclops noticed that it was suddenly becoming a lot darker. An instant later, he noticed that it wasn't because of the weather, but because of a giant shadow looming over him. The X-man quickly darted around to see what was making such a big shadow: the gargantuan Cain Marko, better known to the X-men as the Juggernaut. _Damn: in all this madness I forgot that Juggernaut's helmet blocks off psychic attacks so mental blocks don't work on him, _Cyclops thought as he backed away warily while the fully-armored human tank moved forward. _We've been on such shaky terms that I don't know where or not Cain is here to help me, or make things worse. I guess I'll know in a moment, but I don't think that I'd last very long alone with broken ribs!_

"Hey lady," Juggernaut growled with his voice filled with gruff annoyance. "I'm gonna make this simple: piss off or I'll make you piss off."

"That's my line, Lurch," Shriek shot back before blasting Juggernaut with a stream of sonics. "Don't interfere!"

While the blasts would have hurt anyone else, to the near-invulnerable Juggernaut it was naught but a mere light show. Undaunted and unaffected, Juggernaut continued to walk towards Shriek, who backed away in fear but continued blasting anyway. _"I'm sorry that I wasn't able to stop Cain, Scott," _Emma's voice told Cyclops as he watched the behemoth march towards the madwoman while nervous sweat started beaded down her forehead. _"If you like I could notify the others to help you in case he tries to-"_

"That's alright, Emma," Cyclops interjected with a thin smile as Shriek backed up against a ledge that prevented her from backing up further, allowing Juggernaut to reach out with his huge, tree trunk-like arms and snatch the woman off the ground. Before Shriek could even protest, Juggernaut reared back and hurled Shriek impossibly far into the distance, all the way off of the island of Utopia and into the ocean surrounding it. "I don't think Juggernaut is here to hurt me…"

"…don't think I just did that for you," Juggernaut rumbled as Cyclops walked next to him so that they were both facing the ledge that Shriek had just been launched from. "The elf was one of the few guys who welcomed me into the X-men when I was thought I could change. I should've known better than to think that redemption was possible back then, but we had some good laughs even with the 800-pound gorilla hanging over us. The least I can do is make sure that no one futzes up his funeral…not like you guys stay dead for very long anyway."

"Juggernaut…I want to ask you something," Scott said after a pause, once again being reminded of how much of an impact Nightcrawler had on people's lives. "This whole mess with Bastion coming back and putting so many of our team members on the inactive list…it's got me wondering about what the X-men try to do. Do you think that I'm wasting my time, keeping the dream alive of peaceful coexistence?"

"Tch...that coexistence crap doesn't bother me a bit anymore: you don't have to have superpowers to be an asshole," the big man replied with a scoff before sitting down with his rump making a loud thud. "But I'll tell you this: I've fought a lot of people in my time, most them being X-People. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose, but no matter what I don't dwell on it too long. I just keep looking forward and tell myself that anything I can walk away from isn't a loss. That's not something I get from being a Juggernaut, but something I get from being a person."

At that, Cyclops couldn't help but crack a slight smile, realizing that one of the X-men's oldest foes was giving him a pep talk. "You know, Cain…there was a time when I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be sitting there talking to me like that…"

"Yeah, well…strange bedfellows," Juggernaut grumbled before lifting his hand and pointing towards the memorial service that now seemed so far away thanks to Cyclops' fight with Shriek. "As much as you used to piss me off, I know you're like me: you pick yourself up after you get knocked down and keep moving forward. I suggest you do that now and go say goodbye to your friends…or else I'll pummel ya myself."

"Thanks, Cain," Cyclops nodded his head before looking down and noticing that his clothes were in shambles, "but first…I think I'm going to change my clothes."


End file.
